Home For The Holidays
by cress26
Summary: A destitute Raymond Reddington is homeless, resides on the cold, snowy streets. Elizabeth Keen passes him every day, until she cannot ignore him any longer... AU.
1. Chapter 1

Summary:

A destitute Raymond Reddington is homeless, resides on the cold, snowy streets. Elizabeth Keen passes him every day, until she cannot ignore him any longer...

Alternate Universe, Homelessness, Drinking, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Romance Angst, Smut.

Notes:

Following my own prompt in the Lunchbox FB group, this story was supposed to be a christmas one-shot, but rl kept me from finishing this in time. So this is just the first part.

Thank you to heaterpeters for the real quick beta despite being super busy with christmas preparations.

Merry Christmas everyone! :)

Home For The Holidays

It was the beginning of December and Liz noted how particularly cold the season had started his year when she stepped from the train. Her voyage to and from work included a subway ride, followed by a ten-minute walk through the heart of downtown Washington D.C. The temperature had dropped to 25 F overnight and she walked with her head down, wishing her office would be a little closer to the subway stop.

As with most large cities, the homeless population often resided on downtown corners, asking pedestrians for their spare change. Liz had learned to ignore the nameless faces who begged for money each day as she continued walking. Her limited life experience had let her to the assumption that they lived on the streets because they choose to be, probably due to drugs or alcohol. It was their own fault and clearly not her responsibility to help.

The first time she noticed him when she passed the usual mob, he was sitting against a building, wrapped in several layers of dirty clothing, holding a white paper cup in front of him.

"Spare some change?" he asked. "I would really appreciate it."

The deep gravel in his voice sent chills racing along her limbs and she didn't even bother to look up, but hurried past him without acknowledgment.

He still sat at the same spot on her way home. Ignoring him completely as she walked by, she quickened her steps, her boots echoing on the cobbled stone street.

######

When she saw him again the next morning she purposely crossed the street. It was ridiculous really, but there was something about him that always left her with an uneasy and unsettling feeling whenever she spotted him, more so than any of the other homeless persons did. It also didn't help that he would look up the exact moment she rushed past him, regardless how early or late she'd been; his gaze would follow her until she was out of sight.

After a week, she contemplated traveling to work by car for a while just to avoid him, hoping he would move on to another part of the city. By then, she'd had enough; the entire issue was blatantly absurd and she refused to let herself become intimidated by him.

The next time she walked past him, his hands were busy assembling and constructing little figures out of wire and plastic, but of course he noticed her when her eyes became level with his.

He looked up and was about to say something when she angrily cut him off before he had the chance to open his mouth.

"I have no money on me, ok!?"

She didn't see it coming. In her haste to retreat, she managed to find the only icy path on the sidewalk, and consequently, slipped and fell, hitting her head on the curb.

Blood tickled from her forehead as people brushed past her, no one bothering to help. Pain seared through her, then rendered her unconscious.

When she woke up a few minutes later his large hands carefully cradled her head.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his gruff voice only inches above her. Tilting his head, his concerned eyes met hers.

He looked scruffy; thin and pale, with a long beard and scraggly long hair. He had perfect white teeth though which was unusual for many of the homeless living on the streets. His hands were slightly calloused but his fingernails were remarkably clean too. Liz did sniff the faintest smell of alcohol on his breath however, affirming her notion.

Her eyes began to well up with tears as she struggled to get up.

"No sweetheart, please don't move. The paramedics will be here any moment."

Nausea rose in her throat and the pain in her head seemed to intensify. She groaned as she closed her eyes and held on to his coat.

"Hey, stay with me a while longer, will you?

"I'm Raymond. What's your name?"

"Eliza…beth."

Blood started to trickle down her cheeks, mixing with her tears.

"That's a nice name.

"I know you're in pain. That was a nasty blow to your head, but you'll be fine, Elizabeth. I promise."

The ambulance siren wailed in the distance and he smiled down at her.

"See, they're coming for you."

He held her head until the paramedics arrived and took over, ushering him away.

They checked to see her condition before strapping her to the gurney and placing her in the ambulance.

Raymond pensively watched the ambulance barrel away before he returned to his spot and sat back down on a pile of flattened cardboard boxes. Searching for the bottle of whiskey among his spare belongings, he took a long huge sip, savored the warming sensation of the fluid, then reached for the wire in front of him to resume his work.

#####

In the hospital, Liz learned that she had suffered a mild concussion. A neurologist told her that an MRI of her brain hadn't revealed any significant damage and after conducting several neurological tests, he declared that Liz had been very lucky to escape the fall with no major ill effects. The nasty gash across her forehead was dressed up in a nice clean bandage and she had to remain in the hospital for observation.

She rested and recovered, but her thoughts would always drift back to the homeless man. She didn't know what emotion to attach to the storm of feelings he raised in her. He made her angry, he made her sad, he made her frustrated. And confused. She inevitably had felt like walking in his shoes the moment she had lain helplessly on the cold sidewalk. No one had cared. No one had wanted to help - Except him, and she was mortified by her previous behavior towards him.

######

She went looking for him a week later. He still resided at the same spot. She watched him for a while from afar, as if confused as to what to make of him. He handed out the small figures he was crafting whenever someone would put some money into his paper cup.

Liz frowned when he raised a bottle of whiskey and took a deep, hearty gulp. For some reason, that bothered her. She decided he needed a hot drink instead, to warm him. She found a small coffee shop around the corner where she purchased a generous cup of coffee and a large muffin. He really should eat something.

He rose to his feet and smiled as he watched her approach. He brushed along his coat in an unconscious gesture, as if it would help to improve his appearance. Seeing her was like a ray of light in his dark world.

Liz walked up to him, though hesitantly at first. His smile immediately cut through her reserve and she came to stand next to him.

"Hi, Raymond."

"Elizabeth, how are you?"

Her forehead was still heavily bruised and swollen, dark purple marks colored her skin. She watched his face and saw his pained expression. He reached out with a tentative hand, but pulled back before he actually touched her.

"I'm okay, I suffered a concussion. I'm taking a few more days off from work though."

Standing so close, she took her time to really look at him. Raymond was an attractive man, maybe in his late forties, maybe a bit older, but it was hard to tell with his long beard, long unkempt hair and the layers of dirt covering his face.

There was something in his voice, in his eyes, the way he was watching her, waiting for her to answer. He also seemed to see right through her, slicing away her antipathy.

"I came to thank you."

She handed him the coffee and the small paper bag with the muffin inside, observing how his eyes lit up in gratitude.

"Thank you for taking care of me when I needed it, Raymond."

"Ah, don't mention it."

He bent down and picked up one of his handmade figures. It was a small angel, completely constructed out of wire and golden plastic wrap.

"This is for you, Elizabeth… because we all need an angel in our lives."

######

They greeted and smiled at each other every morning from that day forward. She was usually late on her way to work and didn't have time to talk, but every afternoon on her way back home she would stop by. She usually brought him a coffee, sometimes a pastry as well. He admitted to having a sweet tooth and she enjoyed watching him literally moaning in delight from the taste of marzipan, chocolate, custard and cinnamon.

She never gave him money, suspecting it would just support his daily whiskey intake. She wasn't comfortable with that issue at all.

######

The weather forecast predicted another cold front, with several inches of snow to follow within the next few days. Cutting icy wind blew from the east and the temperatures dropped even more.

Liz wondered how he would sustain let alone survive those awful conditions without a home. On one particularly freezing afternoon she got in her car and went looking for him, armed with a blanket, hot tea and food.

She found him near his usual spot, huddled up in a doorway, unsuccessful as he sought shelter from the cold. His coat was covered in snow and he shivered in the frigid air. In his hand, he held a half-empty bottle of whiskey. Her heart sank to see him in such a sad state and she lowered the window and called out for him to join her in the car.

######

They sat together with the car running and the heater on, trying to dry him out and warm him up.

He sipped the tea and nibbled at a croissant. He was pretty drunk and reeked of booze and dirty wet clothes.

They sat in silence for a long time, watching the snowflakes swirling in the wind. Christmas decorations and lights twinkled in the street, giving off a peaceful winter glow.

"Would you like to spend Christmas with me, Raymond?"

He paused and looked at her intently, questioning her motives.

"It certainly is sweet of you to care about me, Elizabeth. But only two weeks ago, you were changing the side of the street to avoid me. Now you bring me food almost every day, you picked me up with your car so I won't freeze to death and now you invited me to spend Christmas with you? Why?"

"You were my knight in shining armor."

"You fell because you wanted to get away from me."

"And yet, despite the rejection you were there. You helped. You did what was right. You didn't care how I treated you, how misjudged and prejudiced I was. You just helped."

"And now you feel like you need to make it up to me? Because you feel remorse?"

"Yes, … I mean no," Liz sighed.

"I don't want your pity, Elizabeth."

Raymond raised his voice, displeased.

"Or your food. Or your care."

Whether she understood the sudden source of his bad mood or not, his words hurt, making her throat constrict and her chest tighten.

"Then what do you need? Money for your next bottle of whiskey?"

The cold mocking immediately fell from his face and was replaced by regret when he watched her grow angry and defensive, fighting back tears.

"Three years ago, my wife died of cancer. I held her in my arms and watched the life disappear from her eyes. I've never been the same since. I started to drink. After giving up work, alcohol became an obsession. I just couldn't go out anymore without having had a drink, I used to drink through the night, I used to drink first thing in the morning.

"I didn't pay rent for our apartment anymore, so eventually I was evicted. I ended up living on the street, despite all the money I inherited from my wife. It's in a bank account and I've never touched it.

"I got to the point where I wanted to end my miserable life, but I didn't have the courage to pull the trigger or drink myself to death.

"Over the years, I've learned to deal with the pain and loss, but I never could control my drinking problem and I lost all sense of a normal life.

"I'm an alcoholic and you were right in your prejudice, Elizabeth. You shouldn't mess around with things that are better left alone."

Liz didn't know when she'd started crying, or for how long, but the tears that stung her eyes fell down her cheeks with unchecked force.

"I better leave now."

Raymond opened the door and stepped out of the car. He slowly shuffled back through the snow to his place in the doorway. He felt like crying himself, already a tear was trembling on his cheek. He had felt so alone and lonely for such a long time. Like a dry sponge he had soaked up her attention, let it soothed his soul. But it was better this way. Less complicated. He tried to steady his breathing and resolved himself to the inevitable—a very long, cold and sleepless night.

Liz stared after him and made no attempt to drive away. No, she wouldn't let him go just like this. She got out of the car and followed him. When she had caught up with him she spun him around to face her.

"You said we all need an angel in our lives. I want to be the one in yours, Raymond!"

He looked at her speechless, willed his eyes to focus. They watered instead, and he blinked. Once. Twice.

"Would you like to spend Christmas with me?"

She had to ask him again.

"Yes," he croaked at last. "I'd like that very much."

Her radiant answering smile stole his breath away.

"I'll pick you up then. And now allow me to drive you to the next shelter."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

She almost didn't recognize him when she picked him up in the early morning of the December 24th.

Raymond had cut his hair and had completely shaved off his beard. He wore a suit and tie beneath his smart navy blue thick-woolen coat and matching fedora.

He looked so incredibly handsome and dignified, like an old fashioned gentleman; as if he had become someone else entirely. He appeared so much younger as well and he didn't smell bad at all anymore like he used to.

Liz couldn't take her eyes off him and grew suddenly shy when he caught her staring, but she could tell he was just as nervous, for his fingers fidgeted at his sides.

When he smiled at her and stepped closer, he took her breath away and her heart leaped to her throat. She looked up at him, into the brightest, greenest eyes she'd ever seen.

"Wow, you look so different, Raymond."

"I didn't want you to feel embarrassed to be with scruffy me. Besides, it's Christmas, more than enough reason to dress decently."

"You didn't have to."

Tilting his head, he looked at her intently and his voice dropped intimately.

"But I wanted to."

Giving in the need to touch him, she flattened her palms on his upper arms for a moment before pretending to wipe some snow off his coat. The scent of his cologne teased out a little sigh.

"Okay then, let's go."

Liz drew away from him, turning to leave, but he stopped her.

"Thank you for the invitation, Elizabeth. I'm really looking forward spending time with you."

His sincerity made her feel both nervous and excited. Smiling, she wished she could fight off the rising blush as he followed her to the car.

######

Liz guided Raymond up the stairs, then unlocked and opened the door to her cozy apartment. He took a hesitant step into the tiny corridor, then another.

Noticing his reticence, she smiled at him encouragingly.

"Come on in. Make yourself at home."

He took off his hat and she hung his coat on a hanger in the closet next to the front door, then she removed her own. She was dressed in a cobalt-colored satin blouse and a short black skirt that revealed her long, slender legs. Now it was his turn to stare at the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"You look really lovely, Elizabeth."

"Thank you. You look very nice, too. It's fun to dress up, isn't it?"

"There was a time I wouldn't leave the house without suit and tie."

Raymond's expression suddenly changed, his head dropped and his eyes held a sadness that painfully twisted her insides.

He sighed, and the mere exhalation of air carried more meaning than she could understand.

She carefully approached him, and her outstretched hand touched Raymond's cheek in comfort. He looked up and watched her eyes fill with the tears she wanted to cry for him, but he wouldn't allow. He wouldn't place his misery upon her.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to break the mood."

He leaned into her warm touch a moment longer and lingered, as though unable or unwilling to break the contact.

Liz blinked back her tears. Everything with him seemed to be so emotional and deep. He always touched her heart and soul in ways no one had before. She couldn't deny that she felt an unusual strong connection with him. It was crazy, he was a stranger and they hardly knew each other.

She took his hand and pulled him with her.

"Let me show you around."

Her place was small but comfortable. There was nothing about her living room that could even remotely be described as frilly or girly, the dominant hues of her furniture being dark, bold shades of chocolate brown and navy blue.

There was a wooden dining table with two chairs, a well-worn leather couch, a coffee table in the middle and even a small stone fireplace in the corner, flanked by an overstuffed bookcase on one side and a big screen TV on the other. A sliding door led to a balcony with the perfect view of all the hustle and bustle of the resident area. Adjoining the living room was the kitchen and a staircase that led to the bedroom and bathroom on the second floor.

A four foot Christmas tree sat on a small stool next to the window in the living room.

"I haven't had time to decorate the tree. Would you like to help me?"

"I'd love to."

"Great."

Liz suggested that he get comfortable while she quickly lit the wood already stacked inside the fireplace. It wasn't long before it crackled and popped from the heat.

She went to the kitchen and fixed them both some coffee, then came back with two mugs and a plate with freshly baked cookies.

She disappeared again to the attic where she had stored the boxes of Christmas ornaments and other decorations.

As the snow started to fall, big flakes hitting the windshield and Dean Martin crooning Christmas songs from the stereo, they worked together to decorate the tree. Raymond patiently unraveled the fairy lights, then wrapped them around the branches, while Liz took and hung up a variety of ornaments from different boxes and chatted about their origin and how she acquired them.

"Every year I add a new piece to the collection," she told him.

"So, what's new this year?" he asked and watched her taking the angel he made for her from the bookcase.

"Yours!" she beamed and placed it in the center of the tree.

He smiled and they continued working. Liz spread out tinsel and angel's hair, giggling when her fingertips were pricked by the pine needles. She finally placed a shimmering golden star on top. There were a few more decorations left in boxes for the tree but it was almost done.

They stood for a moment and admired their handiwork.

A soft, smooth contentment seeped through him and it was an odd feeling, so rare for him, that he didn't recognized it first: Peace. He felt a connection tug between them and it couldn't be only one-sided, could it?

The moment stretched between them, fragile and sweet like a spun glass ornament. He looked at her, with the lights of the tree reflecting in his eyes, making them sparkle. Or maybe they sparkled all on their own?

######

Before long they sat down for dinner. She had prepared honey-baked ham, buttered corn, green-bean casserole, mashed potatoes and gravy.

He helped her set the table with plates, silverware and napkins. He lit candles around the room and poured them a glass of wine.

They enjoyed and helped themselves to plenty of the delicious food. They laughed and chatted, Raymond was so easy to talk to and she savored his company.

He told her how he had always wanted to be a professional artist, crafting shapes and forms, creating sculptures in all sizes and colors.

She kept catching herself getting lost in the intensity of his voice, gaze and expressions. Delighted in his good looks, she reveled in the attention he constantly paid her. He excited her and warmed her and by the end of the dinner she knew she was helplessly falling for him.

He didn't feel any different. He enjoyed watching her delicate hands perform the act of putting food into her mouth. Every wholehearted laugh of hers thrilled him. She was so beautiful; he ached and longed for her in ways he never thought to experience in his miserable life ever again. She made him forget who and what he was.

######

Surrounded by pillows and blankets, she sat curled upon the couch next to Raymond, snuggled up to him, his arm around her shoulders. He had shed his jacket and tie and had unfastened the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing his sprinkling of golden chest hair.

They'd poured themselves another glass of wine, and she sipped hers, a faint pink staining her cheeks. Secure in his embrace, it felt as if he belonged there.

Together they watched the crackling fire, the woody aroma mingling with the fragrant candles. The hypnotic flames swayed and danced, the colors ranging from molten gold to tongues of blue. Long moments of comfortable silence hung between them, and no words were necessary.

Gradually her eyes grew heavy and they stretched out on the couch. Laying side by side Raymond drew her closer and her eyes drifted close, her body absorbing the warmth of his.

He watched her sleep. She was so amazing. Tenderness washed over him, then reached into his chest and squeezed his heart in an iron grip. Chuckling softly, he listened to her low snores, thinking it was one of the most adorable things he'd ever heard.

######

She woke up with a start and found him gazing at her.

"How long have I been out?" she asked sheepishly.

"Just a few minutes."

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. You must be exhausted. It has been a long day."

He smiled and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.

"What did you do?"

"I just watched you sleep."

"You...you watched me sleep?" she stuttered. "Why would you do that?"

His smile turned shy.

"I haven't felt this good in a long time. You selflessly invited me into your home, doing something nice for a person in need. You cared. Not everyone would do that. Thank you, Elizabeth. You're wonderful."

He pulled her in for a hug, holding her longer than necessary. He caressed her back, reveled in the smell of her hair, in the delicate bones of her shoulders. She felt soft and vulnerable and her close proximity made his heart beat faster.

Liz' face was nestled in the hollow between his shoulder and his throat. An appealing masculine scent wafted from him, stirring a heat within her that she found herself unable to stifle.

Raymond slowly, reluctantly pulled away from her, but then his hand came up and he stroked her forehead lightly with his thumb, circling around the fading bruise and sending tingling shivers down her spine.

"Does it still hurt?"

"No, not anymore."

"Good. I'm glad. I was really worried about you."

He stared at her and she stared back, memorizing each worry line, the way his lips twitched at her intense scrutiny and how his eyes seemed to darken when she licked her lips.

For long endless moments, his stormy eyes and the heat he tried to contain in them, seared into her. A shiver raked through her in response and her attention riveted to his mouth, now a bare inch from hers. So close, she could feel his warm breath blew over her lips.

Unable to resist she brushed her mouth over his lips. Once. Twice. Three times.

He went still in surprise, long enough that Liz thought he might not continue. But then his eyes fluttered shut on a soft sigh and he leaned in when she settled her mouth on his completely.

He took command of the kiss, his lips moved against hers in slow gentle nibbles and she lost herself. The way his warm inviting mouth played over hers lit every part of her body on fire.

Her deep groan reverberated against his lips. He slanted his warm mouth over hers then, deepening it until her limbs grew heavy and her head light.

His tongue slipped deeper, stroking her in a way that was so intense, so seductive, so suggestive of a deeper intimacy, that she was drowning in sensations and aching arousal.

"If you keep kissing me like this, I'm going to make love to you," she panted, broke the kiss, struggling for breath.

They separated, both trying to hold on to what had just begun to happen between them.

"We should take it slow …"

"No Raymond."

She took his hands in hers. Spreading her legs, she guided his hand under her skirt to her wet core. She pulled her panties to the side and guided his finger in between her swollen folds.

"This is how you've made me feel all evening. I want you."

He groaned. He knew he should pull away but he couldn't. His fingers parted her flesh on his own account, stroking the slick insides and sliding through it, making her tremble with desire.

"We really shouldn't …" he tried again, but even in denial his eyes sparkled in delight at the little moans and cries he elicited by touching her.

She leaned in for another kiss, searching his mouth to dampen down the rest of his refusal.

His fingers slid back and forth, rubbing and circling her clit. She arched against his hand, her body instinctively wanting to be closer to the source of pleasure. He marveled at her response, intoxicated by the knowledge that Liz wanted him, without any inkling of who and what he was.

One long finger boldly slipped into the closed slit, opening her, probing with unerring skill, and pushed deep up into her body. She whimpered at the intrusion, her fists tightening on his shirt.

He withdrew, then quickly pushed back in, his finger big and rough, rasping against her tender inner flesh, hitting every sweet spot on the way.

He stroked her again and again and the tiniest of mewls escaped her lips. He silenced her with another kiss, long and deep, his tongue mimicking the movement of his finger.

When she felt his thumb brush over her clit, her body stiffened and a sob tore at her throat and she came fiercely. Contractions pulsed hard with the force of her orgasm, squeezing his talented fingers. The sensations were incredible and overwhelming. He watched her thrash in passion and continued to stimulate her until her body relaxed and she eased him away from her now overly-sensitive flesh.

"What about you?" she started as she caught her breath, but a shake of his head stopped her.

"Don't worry about me," he said. "This was for you."

"Your reservation is honorable, but not necessary, Raymond."

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart. It's all right, really."

He leaned in and lightly kissed her forehead. Nodding, she curled up beside him beneath the blanket and he watched her eyelids drift closed, her breathing slow.

He was glad she didn't notice the nonexistence of his erection or the way his expression suddenly changed into deep longing mingled with the pain of despair. He lay still and eventually sleep came to take him away as well.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Raymond woke up in a cold sweat. His hands were shaking and his heart pounded furiously. He knew he needed a drink to make up for the time he had deliberately made his body go without. He had hoped the wine would delay the inevitable just a bit longer, but no such luck.

Elizabeth was lying against him, still sleeping peacefully. With a deep sigh, he carefully untangled himself without waking her and climbed off the couch.

It was 4 in the morning and the only lights came from the Christmas tree across the room. The candles and the fire had long since burned down to embers and a chill had filled the room. He secured the blanket back around her torso, then silently padded into the corridor.

He reached into the inside pocket of his coat and retrieved a flask, taking several desperate and greedy sips. The familiar fiery sting of whiskey burned down his throat, giving instant relief.

When he turned around, Liz stood in the open doorway watching him. Tears had pooled in her blue eyes. Apparently, she had followed and witnessed him drinking.

"Don't!" he hissed.

"Don't what?"

"Don't feel sorry for me."

He was mad at himself for being weak in front of her and for making her cry.

"I don't, I understand."

He shook his head and his forehead furrowed.

"No, I don't think you do."

"Just come back to sleep, ok?"

"No, I think I better leave."

"It's not even Christmas yet," she whispered, her dark eyes pleading with him.

"We need to stop pretending, Elizabeth", he raised his voice. "I'm not the man you want or wish me to be. We must end this charade."

She blinked her eyes in disbelief. An invisible knife seemed to twist in her heart.

"Raymond… please. It doesn't matter."

Her voice was raw and her lips trembled. They locked eyes for a moment before he turned away.

"Oh, but it should."

Helplessly, she watched him walk away into the living room to put his suit jacket back on. He gathered his tie, then put on his hat and coat as well and headed for the door.

"I'm sorry Elizabeth. Thank you for all you've done, but I can't do this any longer."

And with that, he was gone into the cold night.

######

Liz stared at the closed door for a long time after Raymond had left, trying to make some sense out of what had just happened. Tears were pouring down her face, blurring her vision.

They had become so close; how could he just walk away? Yes, she had blanked out the fact that he was homeless, ignoring and then even forgetting about his way of living completely. Until she had caught him drinking.

Maybe she'd pushed him too much without meaning to. Had she merely imagined their attraction? Was it only one-sided? Had he simply responded out of gratitude or worse, politeness?

She gave herself a good mental scolding for doing exactly what she should have avoided – falling in love with him. But she didn't know how to quell the feelings that had continued to bubble up ever since she met him on the street or how to stop thinking about him for more than a few minutes every day.

######

Elizabeth spent most of Christmas morning crying. When she couldn't stand it any longer, she went looking for him, searching the streets. She even talked to other homeless people, but nobody knew where he was. He had just disappeared.

She didn't know how she survived the following days, her eyes stinging with hot tears which she desperately tried to choke back. She never had to deal with so much heartache before and it made her immensely unhappy.

Even her nights were spent in restless sleep and crazy dreams. Raymond was always in them, and she was always holding out her hand towards him, crying out for him, but predictably, he was always just out of reach and wouldn't listen.

######

Elizabeth was surprised to see the soiled envelope in her mailbox right after Christmas. No one wrote her, all her mailbox ever held was bills. She reached in hesitantly, wondering why the letter was all dirty. Had the mailman dropped it in the mud? Studying the letter, she saw that only half of the address was on the envelope. Her name was there and her house number but no city or state. There was no stamp on it either. Someone else must have placed it there.

She hurried inside, kicked off her shoes, curled up on the couch, then ripped open the envelope and extracted a single sheet of paper.

She felt a shiver ripple through her and a surge of tears filled her eyes when she recognized his handwriting.

Dear Elizabeth,

by the time you get this letter, I will have committed myself into rehab.

I'm sorry we parted the way we did. I hadn't wanted that to happen, believe me. I never wanted to hurt you - yet I know I have.

Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. You mean a lot to me, not only for what you did, but also for being as special as you are. From the very first moment I saw you I knew there was something different about you.

You seem to have brightened up my miserable lonely life in a very special way. A way I thought would never happen again. You allowed me to experience feelings I thought had long died. You made me feel so good.

You are gentle, caring, kind, compassionate and so loving. Such a wonderful sweet soul – and I gave myself away to you.

I saw so much love in your eyes and in your heart and I lost myself for those precious hours I got to spend with you.

But then we grew close, so intimate and I knew that just by becoming involved with you, I was putting you in an awful position. God knows I've wanted you -badly. I've longed to make love to you, but I couldn't. I wasn't capable physically and it's just one of several other disadvantages due to the constant alcohol abuse.

But more important than that - I couldn't be so irresponsible.

I realized that I was blinding myself to reality. You don't know the whole story of my life and the things I battle with day and night. You know nothing about the addiction that has conquered my body and my mind, how it eats away my entire being, and you shouldn't.

Living on the street doesn't particularly make me healthy either. Just because I took care of my appearance and outfit for once doesn't change me into a regular person. I'm a sick homeless man, Elizabeth!

When the withdrawal symptoms started and you caught me drinking, I left, because I never wanted to you to witness my craving, to see me trembling in want for something other than you.

I couldn't let you into my life like that. It broke my heart that I had to let you go, but you deserve so much better. I couldn't risk to hurt you even more if I had stayed. I can't and won't burden you with my presence in any way.

But you must know, even though our time together has been short, ultimately it was you who gave me the hope, the motivation and the confidence to realize that it's not too late or impossible to change my life. I'm still able to feel and to love. I feel so much stronger now and I know that to save my life and in order to stay alive, I need to fight and overcome this addiction. You gave me the courage I always lacked for wanting to put my life back in order.

So, thank you, Elizabeth. Thank you for being who you are. I'll never forget what you've done.

I'm sorry I couldn't tell you all this in person. I know I'm a coward for taking the easy way out. Please forgive me.

I want you to move on with your life. I want you to be happy. Promise me you'll try. I wish you the best of lives, forever.

Love

Raymond

Tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks, dropping on her hands as she clutched the paper.

So this was goodbye?

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Eight weeks had passed.

The freezing cold and snow were gone but the first fragile rays of sunlight never reached Elizabeth's grey and dark days.

She'd never suffered from so much heartache before. Getting out of bed each day without virtually no reason or motivation to face the bleakness ahead, was clouding her everyday life.

Although she understood Raymond's reasons for backing away, a part of her missed him tremendously and missed what little they had in the very short time they shared together. It had felt like more than just sexual attraction; it was a real connection. Maybe like something that might have had a chance of lasting under different circumstances.

She fought so hard to stop these feelings, her heart and mind battling each other all the time. Why was it so difficult to move on? Why couldn't she forget? How had he managed to steal her heart so easily anyway?

The memories were the most painful on her way to work and it had taken her almost two weeks until tears wouldn't come anymore when she passed his usual spot on the street, now occupied by someone else.

#######

She never really paid attention to the vacant small store next to the bakery where she had always purchased his coffee and pastries. It appeared that it had been a jewelry shop once, but had long since been abandoned. This Friday morning however there was movement. Several men carried boxes, furnishings and equipment from a truck inside the store.

On her way home, she remembered to have a look and couldn't believe her eyes when she recognized Raymond's artwork in the store's window display. She turned her gaze downward and then looked again, but there was no doubt: The little angels were his unmistakable trade mark.

A low chime sounded as she stepped inside and a few seconds later she heard Raymond call out: "Take a look around, I'll be with you in a moment."

His words alone made her tremble with excitement, but then she suddenly felt sick as uncertainty rose inside her. Maybe it was a mistake to come here. What could she possibly say to him? Would he even want her here?

Everything inside her urged her to flee as she turned to leave but then his voice stopped her just before she reached the door.

"Elizabeth?"

She froze where she stood.

"Don't leave," he begged in a low voice. "Please, don't leave."

She stopped her retreat and turned back to face him.

"Raymond ..."

They stared at each other, neither of them moving, neither of them knowing what to say.

She'd forgotten the intensity of his presence, the way he made her feel. All the feelings she had rigorously pushed down the past weeks bubbled back up to the surface and she knew there was nothing she could do about it.

He wore tight black jeans and a black zip-up hoodie. He looked so different and even more handsome in casual clothes and in these surroundings.

"What are you doing here?"

She found her voice first.

"What is this place?"

He could see she had a million questions for him to answer.

"That's a long story … not sure you want to be bothered with it," he said hesitantly, biting the inside of his cheek.

"I've got time," she whispered, wondering if he meant to reject her.

"Let me just close up, and we can talk, all right?"

She just nodded and watched him close and lock the shop door, then he dimmed the lights.

Soon enough they stood facing each other again, each so unsure of what to say and do. Then, after a long moment of complete constriction, it was Elizabeth that broke the uncomfortable silence again.

"How have you been doing? You're looking good, Raymond."

"Thank you, I'm feeling much better."

"I'm glad."

He took a deep, measured breath and let it out slowly.

"As I told you in my letter, I had admitted myself in an alcohol treatment program in a private clinic for six weeks. The physical and mental withdrawal was terrible and lasted for days, but today I'm proud to say that I haven't had a drink in 55 days.

"While I successfully restored my general physically health from living on the streets, it's just the liver that still has elevated values from the constant alcohol abuse, but will hopefully detox and recover in time as well."

He faltered briefly in his tale, then collecting his courage he went on:

"I attended many counselling sessions which helped me deal with the apparent guilt I developed and carried around after my wife's death. Seems I never really came to terms with the loss and pain. Never dealt with my rage and anger at the injustice and unfairness of the situation. I felt I didn't deserve to live a happy life without her. Living on the street, I unconsciously tried to punish myself for being alive, and accepted this miserable life to do her justice. It sounds crazy now, but that's how I felt. I drank to numb my feelings, to escape my thoughts until I became a hopeless addict. Something for which I had no control over, nor any awareness."

Elizabeth listened to him attentively and without interrupting him, but he could see in her face how much she struggled to hold back tears.

"When my time in rehab was over, my psychologist suggested that I needed to make my dream come true for a new beginning. I always wanted to be an artist, so I rented this store temporarily for half a year to show and maybe even sell my work. There's an adjoining small apartment on the upper floor; that's where I live now. It cost me quite an effort to accept and take the inheritance my wife left me, but that's how I've been given a fresh start."

He paused and tried a small smile.

"And, that's how I ended up here."

"Seems that you have made quite a bit of progress. I'm happy you're doing so well, Raymond."

She had to get past the lump in her throat and the ongoing threat of emotional tears.

"Would you like me to show you around?" he asked her gently, sensing her turmoil.

"I'd like that very much."

She swallowed as he reached out his hand, hoping, praying she would take it.

"Come on."

She placed her small hand in his, hoping he wouldn't notice how much it trembled at the contact. He curled his fingers around hers and all she could feel was their skin touching.

He tugged her along through an open door marked 'Private' and led her to his workspace.

It was a smaller area than the store and far more crowded. Tools were stored on shelves and in drawers everywhere. The air was heavily scented with paint and some sharper, more astringent smells that belonged to adhesive, sealants and fixatives.

"Amazing how you pulled this off in such a short time. This place looks really wonderful."

He never let go of her hand when she looked around. He longed to be closer to her than he was right now.

"It's so good to see you, Elizabeth," he whispered out of the blue. "I want you to know that without you, I wouldn't have had the strength to get back on my feet."

The small, hard thing in Elizabeth's chest loosened and unknotted at his words. Every feeling she'd thought she had safely constrained now streamed in her veins and filled up her lungs. She tried so resolutely to move beyond this havoc of emotion but failed when he dared to step closer.

Tears spilled onto her cheeks, first a trickle, then a stream. Raymond immediately gathered her in, his hands warm across her back, and all she could do was press herself against him and gripped him fiercely with arms that trembled.

One of his hands began stroking her hair, sifting and smoothing the strands. Long minutes passed while Elizabeth stood with her cheek to his chest and listened to the sounds of life inside him. Her tears slowed and then ceased, and the constriction in her throat eased.

"I'm sorry for leaving, Elizabeth. For hurting you and for ruining your Christmas."

He paused. His voice was trembling too.

"But I had to do it."

She raised her head, looked at him through tear-streaked eyes.

"I know and I understand why you did it."

"Please forgive me."

He looked so vulnerable and so unsure that her heart ached and new gush of tears moistened her cheeks.

"There's nothing to forgive. It's just that… I missed you," she breathed roughly.

"I've missed you so much. I've tried so hard to move on like you wrote in your letter, tried to forget but I couldn't … because I had already fallen in love with you."

Her eyes squeezed shut. She couldn't look at him anymore, couldn't bear any of it. More tears streamed down her cheeks at her confession and she struggled to wipe them away but there were more tears than hands and she choked on a sob, feeling naked, stricken. She covered her mouth with her hand, knowing she was about to break, burst, knowing she spent too long trying to be strong and independent, trying to be okay on her own. But she'd been lonely and sad and it had been so immensely difficult.

She pulled free of his embrace and turned away. No, she wouldn't fall apart like this in front of him. Wouldn't embarrass herself for being weak and emotional.

In an instant the warmth of his arm was around her again, pulling her back against him, holding her there with one strong hand on her back and the other cupping her face to his chest.

"I've missed you too, sweetheart. Not a day went by in rehab that I didn't think of you. Every time I thought I couldn't stand it any longer, I crafted another angel. Look around, there're an awful lot."

"Angels are supposed to be blond," she sniffed. "Yours are all brunette."

"That's because you are. You're my angel."

He gently lifted her head and searched her face.

"I rented this shop specifically because I hoped to see you again - because I knew you'd have to pass it every day on your way to work. You wouldn't believe what it means to me that you walked in here my very first day."

He placed his hands on her cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away her tears.

"Elizabeth, when l got to know you, I fell for you too. But then, when we grew closer, I grew frightened. I was afraid to love you, because it didn't feel right. I wasn't in any position or condition to be the man you saw in me."

"You loved me?"

She gazed at him, unbelieving.

"More than I ever thought I could love anyone again."

"This is a feeling I haven't had the privilege of experiencing in a long, long time. It gives me energy, excitement and hope. You make me feel alive. You made me want to change. Change back to the man I once was.

"I still have a long way to go and I'll still need time to recover, but I want us to start over, Elizabeth."

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"I've never been more serious about anyone or anything in my life. I want you back - if you'll still have me - if you're willing to give me a second chance."

He didn't know what was happening when she closed the last distance and kissed him. His mouth was so warm and soft against hers that a sigh of pleasure escaped her before she could stop it. Her tongue flicked across his repeatedly as she deepened the kiss.

She wanted him, she needed him, she longed for him. Nothing was going to change that.

He kissed her back until she couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't see, kissed her until she was sure he'd stolen all the pain from her, taking it away with his lips and breath.

Having her back in his arms felt wonderful and undeniably right. The sensation of her body pressed against his, to be this close to her again, to feel her heat, to smell her scent, made his thoughts travel back to Christmas eve and the intimacy they'd shared.

He kept kissing her till she weakened in his arms, until she couldn't think of anything but being with him. As he crushed his body against hers, she felt the prodding of his arousal even through the bunched layers of their clothes. It sent a shockwave of response through her, left her aching and crawling with need. She moaned and broke the kiss to nuzzle his throat.

"I see you fixed that problem too."

She rubbed herself against him experimentally. He groaned; his hands clenched around her butt as she rocked against him again.

"I've touched myself in rehab thinking of you," he grated hoarsely in her ear and enjoyed her answering sharp hiss of breath.

"Do you have anywhere to be tonight?"

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against hers when she nodded no.

"Then please stay. I meant it when I said I want you back."

Raymond dropped to his knees before her and looked up at her like a blind man whose sight had been restored.

"We can take it slow if you want. Spend time together, go out. I'll cook dinner for you after your work. I just want to be with you sweetheart, and I promise I'll be there for the holidays and the future ones to come."

Elizabeth looked down into his face. Her heart soared knowing that he wanted her. Not just now, but forever.

"I love you, Elizabeth."

She couldn't hide her emotions, he had moved her to tears all over again. She cried, but smiled happily at the same time and he took her hands in his and raised them to his lips, kissing the knuckles gently.

"I love you too, Raymond."

She pulled away from his hands to cup her palms around his face, caressing his cheeks and the sides of his head.

"And I'd love to give us a try."

Her words rang in his ears, and he closed his eyes briefly to steady his feelings. She bent down to kiss his head, then pulled him back up and hugged him tight.

He kissed her again until they were both breathless, until their heads spun.

"You haven't showed me your apartment yet," she murmured suggestively to him, her fingers running up and down his chest.

"Oh, I'll show you," he laughed, deliriously happy.

He gazed at her in wonder and awe. All it took was this one woman to turn his life around. Her love, her compassion and her understanding.

Taking her arm, he led her up the stairs to his apartment, immensely looking forward to their future together.

The End.


	5. Chapter 5

Notes:

Looks like I wasn't quite finished with this story and there will be another chapter after this. Enjoy! :)

…..

Raymond opened the door to his apartment and they stepped inside. Curious, Elizabeth took a look around, taking in all in.

The small studio apartment combined a living room, bedroom, and a kitchenette into one single room. The central room branched off into a small alcove which was used as bedroom area. A door led to the adjoining bathroom.

A large counter with two high bar stools separated the kitchen from the living area. He had purchased the most necessary furniture: a new couch, a coffee table, a lamp, an entertainment center with attached drawers and shelves and a small TV.

The entire place was carpeted and even if it still lacked decorations and arrangements, it appeared comfortable and clean. A few unpacked moving boxes piled in one corner, filled with his sparse belongings.

"It's nothing special, simple and convenient."

He seemed tentative, almost ashamed.

"No, it's a cute little place", she hurried to say, smiling at him. "You're off the streets, that's all what matters."

When she held out her arms, he moved into them instinctively. She hugged him close and he inhaled her nearness, relieved to be engulfed in a circle of acceptance and affection.

"Would you like something to drink? Are you hungry?"

He led her to the couch and gently seated her.

"I was going to make some spaghetti and sauce. Maybe you'd like to stay and spend the evening with me?"

He babbled and rolled his tongue, then bit the inside of his cheek nervously.

"Yes, to all of it," she laughed. God, he was so adorable.

He nodded and smiling he disappeared into the kitchen.

"I've got bottled water, some soda and orange juice. Take your pick."

"Hmm, water please."

He opened the small refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of water and twisted off the lid.

She followed and took the bottle from him, then sat down by the counter and took a long sip, the cool water feeling good as it slid down her dry throat.

"This is great. And I love spaghetti."

She watched him boil the noodles, then dumped them into the pan of sauce that was bubbling on the stove. He stirred it together, then placed it onto the counter and handed her plates and silverware.

He sat down beside her, spooning piles of spaghetti onto each plate; the scents of tomato sauce and pasta filled the air.

"It looks delicious", she said and dug into her plate.

"It's not fancy, but it's hot."

They ate in silence for a few minutes, both engrossed in getting food into their mouths.

"That was perfect, thank you."

She swallowed the last mouthful, leaning back in her chair and holding her stomach. She laughed – all of this was lovely and not in the slightest bit like anything she had ever experienced before.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

He cleared away the plates; he knew he was stalling for time. He longed for something else, something more. He longed to touch her, to hold her and to feel her, but he didn't want to push her. He wanted to make sure she was comfortable and that she wanted to be here and with him as much.

He finally walked around the counter and she turned to face him. He took her hands and stepped closer. Even though the bar stool was tall, she had to tilt her head back to look up into his handsome face.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" she asked in return, squeezing his fingers in reassurance.

"I still can't believe you're here."

He closed his eyes and sighed, unable to fight off a wave of emotions.

She cupped his cheeks, then lifted a hand to tangle in his hair, prompting him to open his eyes again. Elizabeth sucked in her breath as a spark of electricity leaped between them. Then, as if both of them were working under the same spell, they moved towards each other. He bent down and she lost herself in his deep green eyes, as their mouths came closer and closer. Until, their lips brushed, parted and met again.

The kiss deepened, tongues tangling delicately, deliberately. It was sweet and hot and sexy and tempting. He tasted warm and spicy and tomato sauce.

Waves of pleasure rolled through her as she felt the kiss right down to the tips of her toes.

In silent invitation, she spread her legs and he moved between them, pulling her closer against him, while his lips moved more fervently over hers.

Raymond felt Elizabeth's hands moving up the back of his sweater and traveling the length of his spine. He was sure that she could probably feel his growing shaft against her all over again, but she didn't seem to mind.

On the contrary, her hands crawled over his sides, making their way to his chest. He pulled away just enough to allow her to reach and undone the zipper. She peeled the hoodie off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor.

Impatiently she tugged the undershirt from the waistband of his jeans, then her hands pushed up under his shirt, sweeping over his bare skin, before her fingers greedily raked through the thick mat of chest hair.

She couldn't get enough of him, her desire urgent and all-consuming. She had longed to feel him like this since Christmas.

With a low growl, he broke his mouth away from hers, his breath as jerky and uneven as hers.

His eyes were heavy-lidded, dark with hunger and arousal as he started unbuttoning her blouse, kissing and touching every new exposed skin. Button by button gave way to his skilled fingers, exposing her black bra.

He pulled and tugged at her nipples through the lace with his teeth, making them poke through the material. Heat shot from her nipples to her core and startled a gasp out of her. Moisture flooded her already damp panties and she arched into his touch, squirming on the stool she sat on.

"Let's move this to something more comfortable, please?" she begged.

"Gladly", he grinned. "Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart."

His arms came around her bottom and she hooked hers around his neck. He lifted her effortlessly and carried her to his bedroom, taking his time. The feel of his arousal between her legs caused her to instinctively squeeze them tighter around his waist.

Elizabeth fell back onto the soft mattress of his bed, her body tingling with anticipation. Quickly kicking off her heels and removing her pants, blouse and underwear, she lay back on the bed watching Raymond undress.

His shirt and jeans dropped to the floor in seconds. He pushed his briefs down, then let them slide over his legs and drop to the floor as he straightened again.

She bit her bottom lip in response, but not before another moan escaped.

She stared at his belly and his groin. He was magnificent, long and thick and more than she could possibly have imagined.

He joined her on the bed, gathering her into his arms as his mouth once again sought hers. His hands moved between them to cup her breasts and as his thumb razed across her nipples, his strong legs pressed against hers, his erection hard against her center. He rolled them around till Elizabeth was on top. She curled around him, in desperate need of his skin, his scent, his maleness. Her hard nipples poked into his chest, then her thighs parted as she straddled him.

The width of his erection pressed to her slick folds, forcing the flesh to part.

"Wait! We can't. I don't have any protection," he warned, worried they were taking this too far without thinking it through.

She groaned and tilted her head back as she rocked her hips, sliding along his veiny length and hitting her clit against the bulbous tip, that rested on his belly.

"We'll just do this then."

She kept moving back and forth without taking him inside, rubbing and writhing over him, closing her eyes to the delicious friction.

Watching and feeling himself driving through her incredible wet heat was sweet torture. Sparks raced through him, every nerve ending electrified, tension built in his spine, his balls aching.

"Is this working for you?" he asked hoarsely.

She began to whimper over him in answer, felt like she was going to squirm out of her very skin. She moved faster, pressed herself harder along his heavy package.

They had only been touching for a few minutes and yet she was so close to release already. Her whole body began to shake; this was so good, so extremely good.

She let out a fractured cry when the first wave of orgasm hit her, then her body went unusual still other than her folds pulsing in tiny movements against him.

The erotic sight of her coming apart above him sent him over right along with her. He shouted as a bolt of heat surged up his stiff member and exploded, jerking with each pulse, coming on his stomach.

She fell, gasping, beside him, and held him close and tight. They lay wordlessly, with legs entwined for a long while, the smell of sex still filled the air.

He hated to move but they needed to clean up; both had slick and sticky bellies and thighs.

He walked into the bathroom to clean himself up, then returned with a small towel. He brought the warm, wet cloth to her thighs, nudged them gently apart and began cleaning her with it, savoring the tiny aftershocks rippling down her legs.

His gaze traveled up and down her body, absorbing the sight of her bare skin.

"I could touch you all night," he murmured, his voice thick and throaty with admiration.

"Then, why don't you?" she smiled, her blue eyes sparkled invitingly.

He dropped the cloth to the floor and his fingertips traced imaginary lines from her breasts down to the juncture of her legs.

"You're so beautiful; no angel couldn't be as perfect."

She closed her eyes at his words, fighting unexpected tears. She opened them again at the touch of his fingers on her face. He ran the back of his fingers down her cheek and lightly grazed his thumb across her mouth. He lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers, kissing her with all the love and all the passion he held inside.

They snuggled up under the blanket, holding each other in their arms, not wanting to risk moving and losing this feeling, this perfect moment in time.

Lost in thoughts she lightly touched and caressed him, his skin was warm and smooth and taut; his body exquisitely carved and sculptured, so completely male.

Her fingertips paused in their exploration and she felt him tense when she hovered over the puckered ridges of skin she'd suddenly discovered on his left shoulder.

"A recent injury?" she asked softly.

"Not so recent," he said, but offered no more.

She ran her fingertips over the scar again, as if her touch could ease the strain she heard in his voice, the tension in his muscles. "What happened?"

"There was a fire in a shelter in my first year living on the streets."

He paused and drew a deep breath, searching for words.

"I didn't notice, because I was too drunk - too passed out to detect the danger I was in. The entire room was in flames. A young brave firefighter named Dembe pulled me from my already burning bed and saved my life, the scar on my shoulder the only remaining impairment."

The silence was deafening as Raymond halted his telling once more.

"But the worst about that incident was, that at the time, I didn't even care if I would make it out alive or not. I was so damaged and broken and I had isolated myself from the world so much, that the only thing that still mattered to me was the next sip of alcohol – for three years – until you walked into my life."


	6. Chapter 6

Notes: So this is the end. For real this time. Just a little more smut for these two.

Thank you to my beta and lovely friend heatherpeters for her help to fix all the small holes.

It was painful to listen to him about the fire, painful to hear how much he had given up on himself back then. Elizabeth remained quiet for long moments, so still and saddened by his revelation. She always felt so helpless, unsure how to respond adequately, and of course he noticed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to burden you with my past and make you feel uncomfortable. I never want this to stand between us."

"No, no, that's fine. Don't ever think you can't talk to me about this," she averred. "I'm here and I'm listening, okay? And I'm sorry for what you had to go through. I'm just not sure I'm really the savior you see in me. It was your determination and your strength alone to change and to detox."

"Motivated by you."

"I didn't do anything," she laughed lightly, then grew serious again. "It was naive wanting to ignore what you were at the time and rejecting me for rehab was the right thing to do."

"Because now we have a real chance?"

"Yeah..."

He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. She closed her eyes and laid her head in the crook of his neck, her curls silken against his jaw. Her left leg draped over his and the warmth of her mound pressed against his hip. She laid her arm across his chest and made small circles on his breastbone with her thumb.

He sighed in contentment, his breath stirring her thick hair.

"I love you, Elizabeth."

He felt her smile in response, that tender, outrageous, amazing gift of a smile.

"I love you too."

She pulled back so she could see his face.

"Raymond, when you were in rehab, you had a full medical examination, didn't you?"

She took his hand and absently played with his fingers.

"Yes, I had a thorough checkup and I'm healthy. Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm on the pill. We won't need any protection."

Elizabeth stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest like thunder.

"Make love to me, Raymond. Let's take this final step."

She cupped his face, bent forward and kissed him, exploring his mouth with her tongue.

She moved to kiss his cheek, rough with stubble. Her lips traveled along his face in a soft line of kisses, until she reached his ear lobe. She sucked it between her teeth and bit tenderly.

She pressed her body firmly against his; he felt her need, she was moist between her legs again. Her fingernails scraped along his stomach. From there, he felt her fingertips glide on to his shaft. Rubbing. Touching. Caressing. Trying to arouse him.

Captivated by her actions, he almost forgot to breathe; he feared he would be incapable to respond so soon again, but when he started to swell under her busy ministrations he groaned not only in pleasure but in relief as well.

At his ear, her mouth whispered: "I want you."

He hummed and shivered, closing his eyes. Her fingers circled the base of his growing shaft and she moved her hand in time to the seductive motions of her lips and tongue along his skin, driving him insane.

She bent her head to take him into her mouth and he grabbed the bed sheets as he felt her lips all around him. The sweet, wet suction felt incredible and he moaned approvingly.

Although he wanted this to go on, her swirling tongue quickly brought him close to the edge and it took all his strength to pull away.

He turned and stroked along the curve of her spine as his mouth closed over each of her breasts. He kissed his way around her breasts, leaving no inch of skin uncovered before sucking her nipples into the warmth of his mouth.

She was mewling and arching against his hands and lips, but just like him she stopped his caress to go further. She opened her lust filled eyes and bit her bottom lip. She needed him. She needed him now.

"Raymond please …"

He slid between her legs in seconds, nudging them wider with one knee, the weight of his arousal heavy and hot against the inside of her thigh as he positioned himself above her.

A rumbled cry from her chest filled the room, followed by his echoing moans, as he sank deep into her. He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, adjusting to the sensation of being surrounded by her wet heat.

Her slick aroused body absorbed him, stretched to accommodate his length and girth. Fine tremors snaked through her body, her inner muscles rippled around him and clamped down on him, holding him deep.

They kissed softly and held each other gently, caressing, moving slowly as if they had all the time in the world. The way their bodies and souls molded together with a completeness and bone-deep rightness shocked them both in its intensity.

She pressed her face into his shoulder as she lifted her legs to wrap around his waist to take him even deeper.

He took her with slow, firm thrusts and she gasped at his utter possession of her, the intimacy of it, the overwhelming heat of it, his sac pressing against her bottom with every deep stroke that touched her very core, shattering all her conceptions about pleasure and lust.

His hands moved to cup her buttocks and he lifted her to meet him as his slow sensuous movements turned into harder urgent plunges.

Her hips matched his frantic rhythm as her desire escalated. The world dropped away and there was nothing to hold on to but each other.

All sensations centered at the quivering point where their bodies rubbed so purposefully together that a harsh scream tore from her throat as she surrendered to the series of violent convulsions. Her muscles contracted and released over and over with powerful force as she came with unspeakable intensity that brought tears to her eyes.

As much as he wanted to hurtle into that release with her, he kept his eyes open, taking in every nuance of her orgasm rippling through her. She looked so beautiful as her face contorted and twisted in lust. The snug grip of her inner muscles milked him, destroying his ability to delay his peak any longer.

His head fell back, his hips jerked hard against her, brilliant, blinding sensations surged through his entire body in slow rapturous waves of pure ecstasy. The pleasure reached and tore at all his hidden places, pulling free all the emotions he'd buried for so long and pushed them to the surface.

She saw nothing but flashes of light while he throbbed and shuddered with release, his hot seed spewing into her, his fierce groans ringing in her ears.

She clung to him, held his head to her chest as he collapsed beside her on the mattress in a panting heap. Sensations continued to run through her veins like a drug and they lay unmoving for a long time.

Raymond couldn't stop trembling. Overcome by emotions, he shivered helplessly in her arms as he silently cried against her breasts, her chest wet with his tears.

"Ssh." She ran her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him as best she could. After many long minutes, she broke the heavy silence.

"What is it, Raymond? Please talk to me."

He drew a ragged breath.

"Do you regret this?"

He didn't answer.

"If you still love her I'll understand …"

Maybe it was all too soon, maybe he wasn't as strong as he appeared. Maybe he wasn't ready for a change and a new relationship after all. Suddenly, she was scared to know the truth.

When he still didn't react, she tried to untangle herself from his body to sit up, but he wrapped his arm around her waist and wouldn't let her go.

"It's none of that," he croaked in his tear-damaged voice, struggling to collect himself.

"Then tell me what's wrong, please."

"It's nothing wrong, really," he replied, appearing shy and embarrassed.

"I'm just … overwhelmed."

He closed his eyes, powerless against the inner uproar of emotions.

"I don't know how to explain it … I haven't cried since the day she died. I've suffered shame, desperation, depression, almost madness and guilt. But I always drank myself numb, in order to block out a number of feelings. For the better part of the last six months I've been impotent as well due to the heavy drinking. I've been having trouble having and keeping an erection. Not that it mattered, anyway. Just one of the many side-effects.

"To experience this intensity of my own feelings again is overwhelming. All this pleasure and happiness and love. There's so much going on inside me, my heart can't keep up. So many emotional barriers and fears torn away. It wasn't just a physical release, but a wonderful emotional one too. I'm a total mess right now and I just let it out by crying. I'm sorry."

Elizabeth looked at him and framed his face with her hands, tenderly wiping away the remaining wetness on his cheeks with her thumbs. His openness and willingness to share and to confide in something this personal touched her deeply. His trust was a precious gift.

"Don't be sorry. I've told you before you can talk to me about it all. I was just scared for a moment."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid that …" She paused before continuing.

"Are you sure our relationship is helpful in resolving your issues at this point? Are you sure you aren't just deflecting? Are you sure you're ready?"

"What do you mean?"

"Our sexual attraction might be strong, but what if it's not enough for a relationship? What if for some reason, it doesn't work out? What if I can't live up to your expectations? Will you end up on the streets again, drinking?"

Her head dropped, her chin hit her chest, and this time it was she who cried in earnest, her shoulders moving in rhythm to her pitiful sobs. Raymond wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close, allowing her to cry on his shoulder.

"Oh sweetheart, I don't have any expectations. In fact, I feel a similar trepidation. I'm so messed up and I'm still in therapy. I have no real job for now. I owe money that really isn't mine. I have nothing to offer and I'm afraid loving you won't be enough in the long run. How can you even want to be with me?"

"I love you, Raymond," she breathed between teary hiccups. "With all my heart. I'm yours. And your love in return outweighs all. I don't need any more."

"We have such a strong and special connection. All I want is to be with you, spend time with you, just like any other couple. Without the pressure of expectations, without deceptions, without running. And then we'll see where this will lead us, okay?"

"Okay," she breathed, nodded, then smiled. "I love you."

"I love you too. I promise to make it work. We have all the time in the world."

Relieved she turned spoon-style in his arms and cuddled back against him, the throes of sleep and exhaustion tugging at her. Raymond hugged her close and placed a kiss to her temple as his leg wrapped over hers protectively.

He lay awake for a long time simply looking at her as she drifted to sleep. He inhaled her scent and smiled at the small movements she made, enjoyed the tingles of desire that still ripped through him when her bare butt brushed his thigh.

He felt a tide of all-consuming peace, joy and contentment. The past and all he had suffered no longer mattered. Elizabeth was like a ray of sunlight that banished the bitter shadows, chased away the lingering darkness.

He finally fell asleep, dreaming of her and a life that was possible again, filled with love and laughter, a real home, and maybe even marriage and babies.

The End


End file.
